The Isle

As thunder rides the churning seas,

So mountains work the skies.

Swarmed by streams of hemlock trees,

Roar up in battle cries.

Tremendous waves of rock lands breach,

The sandy shore with power.

The mountains quake and strive to reach,

The clouds and heaven's tower.

And on the jagged shore below,

Walks lonely with regret,

Between the crags there to and fro,

A young man's silhouette.

For on the isle he is alone,

Locked steady in his pace.

His only comfort, the mountain stone.

He longs for love and grace.

A glint of light does dance away,

Across the sprawling sea,

And just as any other day,

Pretends he doesn't see.

Then there again it flits and shines.

Light peeks above the blue.

Emerging from the wistful brine,

Bead droplets like the dew.

Then laughing hair explodes up through,

Constrictions of the sea.

Red like fire dances too.

A girl's head issues free.

The boy on the shore does turn his head,

Enough to see her smile.

Her eyes, blue gems straight from sea bed,

Are staring towards the Isle.

Lust comes first, the boy stirs near.

He cannot move his eyes.

She is beauty as the ocean clear,

And regal as the skies.

Closer and closer, she draws him in,

With a smile of pure grace.

He cannot feel his chilling skin,

But she calls him with that face.

Voice like songbirds, trills and calls,

The forgotten boy in farther.

He can no longer feel footfalls,

And swims through icy water.

Waves may break but not deter,

The young boy from his prize.

Merciless blue does sweep him under,

Salty rawness stings his eyes.

Down and down again he falls,

And the unforgiving sea,

Holds fast his limbs to like rigid walls,

Drowning out his plea.

The smile's gone and all heart too,

The young girl swims away.

A glint of her tail, a deep green hue.

A mermaid and her prey.

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